Mudslide
by Mele
Summary: Ducky and Jimmy encounter a natural disaster on the way home from a convention.
1. Chapter 1

**MUDSLIDE**

By Mele

_Disclaimer: Yadda, yadda, I don't own NCIS, not making a profit, just having some fun. Hope folks enjoy…._

Dr. Mallard stepped from the elevator at the motel, immediately looking toward the small coffee shop just off the lobby. It was early and he'd not had his usual cup of tea yet, and he knew he'd need that to fortify him for the long drive back to DC. His expression lightened as he saw his assistant, Jimmy Palmer, wave to get his attention, a tall covered cup and a plate containing a scone sitting in front of the empty seat at his table. Ducky flashed a smile and hurried to join the young man, who greeted him with his usual effervescent cheer.

"Good morning, Dr. Mallard, did you rest well?" the younger man asked, taking a sip of his coffee.

"Quite well, lad, quite well. And you?" the Scotsman countered, taking the lid off the cup and sniffing the brew appreciatively.

"Excellent. I'm so glad Director Vance gave his okay for the extra night. It would have been a nightmare trying to drive home last night," Palmer replied. "The storm just ended a couple of hours ago, according to the news. And thank goodness, no snow, just a lot of rain."

"Yes, but wet roads, exhaustion, and darkness are a well-documented recipe for disaster."

"Indeed."

The two men sat back in companionable silence, Ducky tucking into the scone his assistant had so graciously provided, while the younger man enjoyed a breakfast sandwich washed down with black coffee. They rarely mentioned the diabetes that was a lifelong factor in Palmer's life, but both had long since learned to make allowances so he would always have the right kinds of food available when needed.

"Director Vance made an interesting proposition last night," Dr. Mallard said at last.

"Oh?" Jimmy's expression was a bit wary.

"Well, it seems that he sent Team Gibbs home the day before yesterday, just as we were leaving, and told them to not come back for three days," Ducky informed him, with a wistful smile. "I do wish I could have seen Jethro's face at that one. Apparently he threatened suspending any of them who dared to show their face before then."

Jimmy laughed along with his mentor, almost choking on his coffee. "Agent Gibbs hates time off," he noted.

"Yes, yes he does. Anyway, not only was the Director amenable to our staying the extra night, but he suggested we take the scenic route home if we so desired," the older man supplied.

"Scenic route?"

"Not familiar with this area?" Dr. Mallard asked with a smile. "There is a little known highway that meanders through the mountains, impassable during the winter. Busy with tourists, hikers and fishermen during the summer, but perfect for this time of year." He supplied.

"Sounds interesting," Palmer agreed. "It's not like I have to hurry, Breena took the time to visit her folks," the young man smiled. "She'll be home next Monday. And our surrogate isn't due for another four weeks."

"Fatherhood is looming large, my young friend. Are you sure you are ready for it?"

"Is anyone?" Jimmy countered, his expression sobering. "I just don't want to screw this up."

"You won't. I have every faith in you and Breena. This baby is getting the best possible parents," Dr. Mallard assured his assistant. For the hundredth time, it seemed.

"Yeah, you know, the scenic route sounds pretty good. I'm not in that much of a hurry to get back to work again," Jimmy agreed at length.

The past two weeks had been pure hell. The MCRT had been hit with back to back to back cases, actually overlapping. The number of victims for the three cases had numbered eleven, four of which had been particularly gruesome – victims of an acid attack. Two of those had been once-beautiful young women. Two others been bodies that had gone undiscovered for a decade. Another one had been incinerated. Only two of the eleven had been a simple cause of death, the kind where Ducky could basically say "the bullet to the head is the most likely cause of death." Both Ducky and Jimmy had put in fourteen hour days and worked weekends trying to uncover the mysteries the bodies had concealed. They had no sooner finished when the two of them had to leave for a medical conference. They were to represent the Medical Examiner profession as a part of NCIS, giving a day-long lecture and demonstrations to those who might be interested in entering the field. They were a huge hit, the actual presentation going two hours longer than expected, then they had folks lingering to ask questions for yet another two hours. It had been close to 8 p.m. when they finally headed back to their motel rooms, and the welcome knowledge that Director Vance had no problem with them staying until the next day to head home.

"Good call. The scenic route it is."

NCISNCIS

Ducky was taking his turn driving the NCIS Medical Examiner's van, which they'd used to travel in since it was part of the presentation they'd made. With their luggage secured in the back and soft jazz music filling the cab, both men were relaxed and at peace, enjoying the truly magnificent scenery.

"Ah, nothing like the splendor of nature to soothe the soul after a long period of work, right?" the elder man queried with a smile.

"I have to agree," Jimmy grinned, looking well pleased. "Yesterday was sure good, though, wasn't it?" he countered.

"Oh, yes. I can't believe how receptive our audience was, how interested. So often when I've done these the attendees were more like youngsters being punished. This group was exceptional. And having your assistance was also much appreciated. It's clear the future of the Medical Examiner profession is in good hands," he said warmly.

"Yeah, if even half of those folks yesterday go into the profession it'll be a welcome thing," Palmer agreed with satisfaction.

"Lad, I was not speaking of the attendees of our seminar," Ducky chided gently.

Palmer shot his much admired boss a shocked look, then blushed to the roots of his curly hair. He tried to stammer out a response, only to find the words wouldn't come. He turned his attention to the surrounding forest to hide his discomfiture. Ducky didn't seem to mind in the least, understanding that the younger man wasn't accustomed to praise.

"I can't believe I've never been here," Jimmy commented at last, his attention still on the passing scenery, his expression almost childlike in his delight at the beauty of the area. "I can't wait until I can bring Breena," he added enthusiastically.

"And your little one," Ducky added with a serene smile. "Oh, I so loved our weekend excursions when I was but a lad."

"Yeah, I can't wait to introduce him or her to all the great things in the world. Like this place. And the parks in DC, the memorials. Taking them to a movie for the first time. Meeting a horse. I don't know…all of it, you know? All the amazing things that are there waiting for us to discover," Palmer enthused, giving his boss a slightly loopy grin.

Ducky chuckled indulgently. "You still don't know if it is a girl or boy?" he asked finally.

"No, Breena wants to be surprised, and that's fine with me."

"Just remember lad, in the midst of good there is also the not-so-good," he noted soberly, nodding as they entered an area that had been decimated by a wildfire the summer before. The road meandered along the side of a steep mountain, with a sharp rise above on the right and a deep drop on the left. They were on a downgrade, nearing the bottom of the valley, when disaster struck without warning.

The wildfire had destroyed the underlying brush as well as the trees, laying bare the side of the mountain. A day and a half of steady rain had melted the snow in the higher elevations, adding to the water running off the mountainside. It hit critical mass just as the ME van neared the bottom of the grade, seeing a tour bus coming in the opposite direction. One minute they were traveling along at a fairly leisurely pace, the next a mountain of mud swept both vehicles off the road and down the mercifully short hillside.

NCISNCIS

"Hey, Probie Wan Kenobi, where you heading out to?" Tony asked, approaching his teammate as the younger man headed toward his car, parked just outside his apartment complex.

"Tony, what are you doing here?" Tim asked with some asperity, ignoring the older man's question.

"Dude, it's Wednesday, I have no idea what to do with a Wednesday off. Thought I'd see if you had any suitable suggestions," Tony grinned, draping a companionable arm across McGee's shoulders. "The Duckster and Autopsy Gremlin are out of town, Bishop's back with her hubby and Abby is doing a Bingo marathon. And Gibbs? Well, Bossman is probably building an ark in his garage or something. What brings you out of the Nerd Lair this bright morning?"

Tim sighed, recognizing that it would not be easy to dissuade Tony from dogging him on this rare mid-week day off.

"I need a new modem, and was thinking of adding an external hard drive to my system to allow for saving inactive files off the active hard drive. Wanna come along?" he smirked, knowing his teammate didn't enjoy visits to the computer store.

"How about I make a counter offer?" Tony said. "There's an eight hour Jimmy Stewart marathon at the Starburst Vintage Theatre downtown. Vertigo. Rear Window. Harvey. Ends with It's a Wonderful Life. Come on, McGeek, live a little. There's a buffet between Rear Window and Harvey. Comedy, mystery, intrigue. And pigs in a blanket. Can't tell me that's an offer you can turn down," Tony wheedled, giving Tim the full 'puppy dog eyes' thing that got him more dates than was reasonable.

Tim considered his teammate carefully, considering how he'd been there – in inimitable DiNozzo style – when Delilah was injured. How he'd always been there, in his own way, always. And Tim knew that Ziva's departure still hurt. Just as he knew Jeanne's departure still hurt. The man didn't know how to do closure worth a damn. And as it turned out, Delilah was at her parent's for a visit, so he had no viable excuse.

"Fine, you talked me into it. But, on the way let's stop and get some decent snacks. Pigs in a blanket are not going to do it for me," Tim countered, smiling when Tony laughed in agreement.

"Can you get caviar on water crackers at the mini mart?"

NCISNCIS

Gibbs was not building an ark, but a rocking horse. At first he'd pretended it was for his adopted granddaughter, the child of Mike Frank's son, but in reality it was for Palmer's expected offspring. He usually spared no thought to Ducky's assistant, but through the years – and when had it become years, he pondered – the younger man had become as much a part of his team as anyone else. And now that young man was a husband and soon to be a father, and every child deserved a rocking horse, in Gibb's mind.

He was patiently sanding smooth the rockers when his thoughts were suddenly filled with Ducky and his assistant. His gut went into overdrive as he all but dropped the sander in his distress.

Something had happened to Ducky! His gut screamed at him.

With no hesitation at all he snatched up his cell phone and hit the speed dial for DiNozzo, while sprinting up the steps from his garage to his bedroom where he quickly changed out of his well-worn sweatshirt into a button down he tucked into his jeans. DiNozzo's number went to voice mail and Gibbs spoke tersely.

"Something's wrong with Ducky. Meet me at the office."

NCISNCIS

"Dr. Mallard?" Jimmy's voice was faint and slightly strained, but still it penetrated the fog that filled the older man's mind.

"Dr. Mallard, can you hear me?" the disjointed voice insisted.

'I am here, though I am not quite certain where 'here' is," Dr. Palmer replied at length, struggling to open his eyes.

"Don't move," Jimmy instructed him gently, the stress still evident in his voice.

"Oh, my" Ducky commented, looking around the now dim interior of the ME van. "This cannot be good."

Jimmy's responding chuckle was rueful. "It's not. It seems we got caught in a mudslide. I'm somewhat tangled in my seatbelt. I don't want to cut myself loose lest I fall on you. I _think _we can get out via my window. But again, I don't want to risk that until we are both free. Are you injured?" he asked the last with his heart in his throat.

"Let me see, lad, what my status is," the elder man replied, carefully moving each extremity in turn. Finding no issues, he carefully sought out his seatbelt and unbuckled it. I t appeared the van was on its side, driver's side down, and at least partially immersed in mud.

"I appear to be uninjured and am now free of restraint. I will endeavor to assist you in freeing yourself of your seatbelt, then we can see about exiting the vehicle," Ducky informed his assistant, suiting action to word. There was precious little room to spare in the cab of the ME van, but by standing up Ducky left enough room for Jimmy to rotate his lower body down. Carefully helping his assistant cut through the lap portion of the seatbelt, Ducky helped him maneuver into a standing position and wiggle out of the shoulder portion of the restraint.

"Okay, now for the window," Jimmy noted, reaching up to lower the glass. The glass obediently, if somewhat reluctantly slid back into the door, leaving them a small opening to exit the van.

"I'll boost you up first, Dr. Mallard," Jimmy offered, lowering his hands into a step the older man could utilize to hoist himself out.

Though it went against his instinct to get the younger man to safety first, Ducky had to concede that Jimmy – being younger, slimmer and taller – would have the better ability to exit the van independently. Accepting Palmer's assistance, he soon found himself in an ugly world of mud and debris spread in every direction, as far as he could see.

The stark expanse of brown muck rendered both men speechless for a moment, even as their feet sunk into the soft mud. Ducky looked up at his young assistant with a questioning expression.

"There was an oncoming vehicle, was there not?" he asked with some dismay.

"Yes, Doctor, a bus as I recall. Perhaps fifty feet in front of us when the mountain attacked," Jimmy replied, his voice sounding a bit shocked.

"An interesting, and oddly apt, way of describing it," Ducky commented, scanning the area ahead. "We need to find that bus, there may be injuries."

"Yes, Sir." Suiting action to words, Jimmy struggled forward, sinking nearly knee deep in the viscous mud. Ducky followed his example, both of them rapidly becoming winded by the exertion and the higher elevation. Fortunately they spotted the bus tires not far ahead, the only part of the large vehicle they could see. Two were clearly above the 'mud line' as Ducky had begun to think of it, the other two slightly lower and partially encompassed. It appeared the mud had rolled the vehicle, as it had their van, but it had rolled further, coming to rest at a slight angle on its roof. Ducky and Jimmy struggled to reach where the door would be, on the far side, and were relieved to see it was accessible.

Using main force to open the doors, Ducky stepped inside to a world of scattered luggage and people, most of whom were either in shock or groaning in pain from their injuries. The driver was hanging upside down from his seat, still buckled in, and clearly had been killed immediately, a shard of the broken windshield or side window still protruding from his neck. Jimmy joined him inside; using a tiny penlight he kept on his keychain to illuminate the area.

"Oh, my, we do have our work cut out for us," Ducky muttered as the tiny light touched on each person, few of whom it appeared had escaped injury. "We are going to need supplies," he added as his mind busily started determining who most needed help first.

"I'll get them, Doctor, no problem. I can crawl back in the window, then into the back. I'll be back as soon as I can," Jimmy assured him, already making a mental list of what may be needed.

"Be careful, Mr. Palmer, it won't help if you get injured or trapped," the Medical Examiner noted, giving a calming pat to his assistant's shoulder.

"I will be. And I'll be back as soon as I can," the younger man replied, reluctantly leaving his mentor in that hellish bus. He pressed the small flashlight into Dr. Mallard's hand, and then headed back to the van with what speed he could muster.

NCISNCIS

Vertigo had just started when Tony checked his phone's display for messages. Just one missed call, but it was a doozy: the Boss. Showing it to Tim, both men crouched down and hurried to the stairway and into the lobby where they could check the message.

"Something's wrong with Ducky. Meet me at the office," was the typically brief message, and neither younger man hesitated to obey. What kind of trouble, and how the boss would know of it didn't concern either of them; such was their faith in the Boss's "Spidey Sense", aka "Gibbs Gut".

Gibbs was at his desk waiting for them when they hurried in still snacking on the large popcorn they'd ordered for the movie. Pointing to Tim the MCRT leader simply barked, "Trace Ducky's cell." Looking at Tony he quirked an eyebrow, almost daring the younger man to not know what was needed.

"Calling the motel and convention center to see if anything happened of any concern," Tony reported, picking up his phone.

A few minutes of quiet work ended when Tim stood up, bringing up on the plasma a map of the general area Ducky and Jimmy had been visiting. There was one lone blinking red light. At the same time Tony hung up his phone with an exasperated sigh.

"Status!" Gibbs demanded, walking over to look at the displayed map. "What am I seeing here?" he asked impatiently.

"Palmer's cell phone," McGee supplied, clicking to a topographical map. "Looks like they decided to take a detour for some reason. That's hardly the quickest route back," he added with a frown.

"Told him to take the scenic route when I spoke to him last night." The three men turned at the sound of the director's voice. "And I thought I told you I'd suspend you if I saw you before tomorrow?"

"Got a bad feeling about Ducky, Leon. Can't explain it, but it feels like he needs our help. What did you find out?" he asked, turning to Tony.

"No problems or issues at the convention, their presentation was well received, actually ran a bit over time. Ducky and Palmer checked out of the hotel at a few minutes after nine this morning," he reported.

"So why is Palmer's cell not moving and where is Ducky?" Gibbs wondered.

"Well, that area is very likely to have poor or no cell reception, and Ducky's cell isn't the type that sends a good trace. Jimmy's is stronger. But not strong enough to get a call through, I tried both again a moment ago," Tim replied.

"They had a lot of storm activity in that area, they may have had an accident, or gotten stuck somehow. I'm going to go ahead and drive up that way. Probably will find them having a picnic and taking pictures of bears," Gibbs decided, grabbing up his keys. "Sorry to bring you boys in for nothing," he added.

"Uh, Boss, if I go along I can monitor Palmer's cell phone on my tablet," McGee noted, grabbing his jacket from the back of his chair.

"And if I go along I can ride shotgun and watch for them," Tony added. "Plus, will give you someone to talk to who's not going to be all technical."

Tim shot Tony a dirty look, but his heart wasn't in it. Both younger men had the same uneasy feeling about the Medical Examiner and his trusty assistant.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Part II

Ducky watched his young assistant duck out of the wrecked bus, then turned his attention to the twenty or so passengers who, for the most part, were staring at him with considerable confusion.

"My name is Dr. Mallard," he said in his calm way. "My assistant and I had the same misfortune you have had, the mudslide has destroyed our vehicle and effectively trapped us here. No need to worry, however, I know a search will be mounted for us shortly. In the meantime I will do what I can to treat your injuries and make the wait for rescue just a bit more comfortable."

He carefully moved forward, toward a young woman cradling a toddler in her arms, rocking in an instinctual way to comfort her child. "My dear, are you injured?" Ducky queried gently.

Huge brown eyes turned to him, and she mutely shook her head in the negative. Up close Ducky could see the youngster was a girl, perhaps three years old. "And your daughter? Is she injured?"

Without speaking the young mother moved her child out from her a ways, allowing Ducky to see where the child's arm had bled profusely, staining her mother's side and leaving a small puddle below.

"Oh, my, we do need to take care of that," he said, not letting his dismay color his tone. The young woman's expression and actions indicated that she did not understand English well, so the words were of less import than the tone of his voice. Searching about he saw a bandana amongst the rubble, and he grabbed it eagerly. "Ah, just what the doctor ordered, so to speak." It was dark blue and emblazoned with skulls and crossbones, but he doubted the child would much care.

Moving slowly and speaking reassuringly, he was able to bind the child's arm, stopping the flow of blood. The girl was conscious, but mostly unresponsive, which worried the elder man. Finding a coat lying nearby he carefully wrapped the small body in the warm folds, encouraging the mother to hold the child close and keep her warm. Then he moved on to the next victim.

This was an elderly man, wearing an expensive suit, perhaps a few seasons out of style, but well-made and probably quite costly in its day. And now liberally spattered with blood and mud. He'd had a nosebleed, from the looks of things, and had been seated by one of the few windows that had broken, allowing an influx of the mud into the bus's interior.

"Are you in pain?" Ducky asked shining his small light over the fellow's extremities to look for additional bleeding, unusual positioning, or any other sign of problems. Not finding any the Medical Examiner looked into the elder gentleman's eyes, not surprised to find them a bit distant and confused.

"No, no pain," he said, his voice oddly soft and gentle. "This isn't what I expected," he added.

"Who could expect this? Let's get you a jacket, I'm thinking you are a bit in shock, no?" Dr. Mallard replied, liberating another jacket from the jumbled mess amongst which his patients were scattered.

Patting the oldster's shoulder reassuringly, he moved on to the next pair of patients, two teenage boys, bright eyed and anxious.

"Is someone gonna come for us?" the blond one asked, peering past Ducky's shoulder as if he expected rescue in the next ten minutes.

"I'm very sure someone will, but it will take time. There's no way to know how large this mudslide is," he replied with a reassuring smile. "Are you injured?"

"No man, me and Sean here, we're fine. It's a little freaky, like that movie, you know, the Poseidon Adventure, you know, with the ship's upside down, stuff hanging from the ceiling, weird shit like that," the teen replied.

"Ah, well, yes, I don't believe we will sink any further, so that's a comfort at least. And what's your name?"

"Joey. Joe. I'm Joe. Me 'n Sean, we're heading out to visit my brother in college. See if we want to apply to there. Ah, who am I kidding? We wanted to check out the babe situation before we applied," the youth grinned. Dark haired Sean grinned in agreement, causing Ducky to chuckle.

"Well, perhaps you two could help a bit? There's so much..um…stuff, here on the ceiling, or floor so to speak, it's making it difficult to move about. Perhaps you could take some of it to the front, and move it outside for now? Not jackets or clothing, I can use those, but packages, purses, that sort of thing. Don't take them too far, in fact try not to actually leave the bus if you can avoid it. But, remember, folks will want the items back, they just don't need to be under foot right now," he asked, smiling at the eager nods from the boys. He'd already used a jacket to cover the deceased driver as well as possible, so he figured it to be okay for these two wiry young men to do some rearranging of the interior. Who knew how long they'd be stuck in there. "Oh, and keep an eye out for any food. Set that aside, just in case."

"We can do that," Joe assured him, reaching out and looking at the items nearest them. "And I promise, we'll be careful."

"Thank you, lads. That's a big help."

And so it went. A middle aged woman in shock with a dislocated shoulder. A bearded biker type – Ducky wondered if it was his bandana he'd used earlier – with a goose egg size knot on his head. An elderly couple who were uninjured but confused by the circumstances and perhaps having problems with the altitude. A young couple who had been sitting near the middle of the bus. The wife seemed okay, but the husband had a back injury which worried Ducky a great deal. A pregnant woman who had an inward turning look that also worried the medical examiner. Before heading toward the folks at the back of the bus, he heard Jimmy return.

Sean and Joey had met the assistant M.E. at the doorway, leading to both parties being a mite startled. But the teens' faces had lit up at the prospect of supplies that could help the other passengers, and they reached out with eager hands to help Jimmy. Ducky hurried to the door, then chuckled with fond appreciation at his assistant's resourcefulness.

Jimmy had used one of the sturdy plastic sheets they used to wrap bodies in as a makeshift sled, loading all the bandages, salves, and braces he could find, as well as their emergency rations, a change of clothing for himself and Ducky, and assorted other paraphernalia as he thought Ducky might need or be able to utilize. At the back of the 'sled' were two stacks of folded plastic and canvas wraps.

"Well done, Mr. Palmer. Very well done. You got it all in this one trip?" Ducky asked with a proud look at his assistant.

"I think so. Not much left in the van, truth to be told," Jimmy replied with a grin. "It's not easy to walk in that muck, I figured if I could do it in one trip that'd be best."

"Good thinking, lad. Well, let's see what I have here. Jimmy, that lady there has a dislocated shoulder, we don't want to deal with it right now, too much else to do, but could you perhaps bind it better? And get this neck brace on that fellow in the middle. I've not checked the folks in back as yet," Ducky instructed as Sean and Joe went back to their task of clearing out the bus.

"First, I was thinking, we should probably change our clothes, at least from the pants down, so we don't get this mud everywhere. I grabbed our extra shoes even," Jimmy suggested and the stack of clothing was handed in by Sean.

"Excellent idea. And it will help keep us warm."

For the next hour the two men worked diligently. At the end of that time Ducky and Jimmy met at the front of the bus to confer. By Ducky's count they had twenty three patients, only six of whom had escaped injury. Five were what Ducky considered serious: the small child with the cut arm, who remained oddly unresponsive, the young man with the spinal injury, the pregnant woman in shock, a teenage girl with a compound fracture of her left leg, and a middle aged man who was deeply unconscious. While the two medical men were discussing their options, their helpful teenager companions came up, interrupting their discussion.

"Um, Doctor, Sean and I were talking about it, and we think it'd be a good idea if we went for help. I mean, it's nowhere near night time, and we aren't injured. And we both run track, we're plenty strong and can go a long ways. We can head out for help, make sure folks know we have survivors here," Joe offered, while the always silent Sean nodded in the background.

"Oh, no, lad, I can't condone that. What if something happens to you? No, someone's bound to have noticed the mudslide by now, and help will be forthcoming. I can't risk anyone's life, especially since we don't know for certain if any more slides are in the works," the Scotsman replied, touched at the offer from the two teens.

"Yeah, but they won't know to hurry if we don't tell them. You were saying that guy in the back, the one who's still unconscious, he could die if he doesn't get to a hospital. We walk out, we find the rescuers, and we can maybe have them fly in, whatever. This bus might not be missed for several more hours. And you guys might not be, too. We noticed that the lodge appeared to be open when we passed, and that wasn't more than a couple of miles back, that's where we'd head," Joe argued.

Ducky stared the resolute young man in front of him, hating that he really could not refute his arguments. If rescue was delayed, at least one patient might not survive. The coming night was guaranteed to be bitterly cold, and the small amount of food Jimmy had brought from the van would amount to hardly a mouthful per person. The plastic and canvas wraps would help against the cold, but between the chill and the damp a night in the disabled bus could be disastrous. Plus, noticed but not spoken of, was the fact that mud was pressing hard against all the passenger side windows. If they gave way, the bus could quickly fill with mud. The two boys, sixteen years old, were sturdy and athletic, full of the vigor of youth. As he debated his decision, a call came from the back of the bus: the man with the head injury was having a seizure. It only lasted a short time, but it decided Ducky as nothing else could have.

"Okay, lads, if you're sure. I want your word, you will stay together. Look after each other," he instructed, reaching into his pocket for his cell phone. "When you get to safety, I want you to call #1 on the speed dial, tell him Ducky told you to call. Tell him what happened and where we are." Ducky glanced over at the stack of clothing the teens had gathered earlier and spotted a bright pink t-shirt. "Here, put this up on the road above the bus. That can serve as a signal for the rescue crews. Try to elevate it a bit with a stick or something," he suggested.

"Will do. And you have our word, Doctor. We'll be careful. We'll get you the help they need. I promise," Joe replied, taking the man's hand in a firm handshake. Sean stepped forward to also shake Ducky's hand, a soft smile lighting his face.

"Thank you," he said softly.

"No, thank you boys. God be with you," he said as they pulled on their letterman's jackets and ducked out the doorway.

"All right, Mr. Palmer, back to work."

NCISNCIS

It was at least five hours to the highway where it appeared Palmer's phone had come to a stop. With Gibbs driving, and McGee monitoring the phone's position continuously on his tablet, it was up to DiNozzo to break up the monotony of the trip.

"So, Boss, did you call Bishop?" he asked at last, curiosity overcoming his better judgment.

"She's spending the time with her husband, he took the time off to be with her," he growled, maneuvering into the fast lane to pass a slower vehicle.

"Oh, so you just called us two?" he asked, all innocence.

"Don't remember calling McGee," Gibbs countered, shifting back into the right lane and going around yet another slower vehicle.

"Hey, that's right, you didn't," the younger agent agreed, looking at his boss in the rearview mirror. "Why didn't you call me in, Boss?"

"Figured you'd be with Delilah," the team leader shrugged. "Didn't want to interfere with your time with her."

"Oh, so you figured I was the only one with no one to spend the time off with?" Tony whined.

"Were you with someone?"

"Well, sure. It was McGee, but it could have been someone else," DiNozzo noted.

"Look, I needed someone who could trace their phones, you seemed the most likely to have free time on your hands. When you get yourself a full time girlfriend, then I'll start calling someone else," he commented reasonably.

"Oh, well, no pressure there," Tony grumbled. "So, what do you think of our new wonder kid anyway?" he asked.

"I think she's going to be an asset, otherwise she wouldn't be on the team," Gibbs grumbled, jockeying into the correct lane to catch the interstate.

"Yeah, but she's awful young. And green. Makes the Probie back there look downright aged," Tony commented, with a grin at his teammate.

"We all started somewhere, DiNozzo."

NCISNCIS

Joe grumbled as his foot once again sunk knee deep in the mud, threatening to suck off his sneaker as he pulled it free.

"Quite a workout we're getting, isn't it?" he asked of Sean with a grin.

Away from others, the shy teenager was free to express himself to his best friend. "Coach Saunders would be impressed. We better not tell him about it or he'll find a way to duplicate it for practice," the dark haired teen agreed with a grimace at the surrounding mess.

"Wow, we'd be popular then, wouldn't we?" Joe snickered.

"Uh huh," he agreed, looking back. "Well, at least we're finally out of sight of the bus. Not exactly making good time."

"Well, this can't go on forever," Joe figured, taking yet another giant step. They'd discovered that it didn't make it any easier to take small steps, so they maximized the distance with every step.

"Actually, look up there," Sean said, pointing to the mountainside ahead. "See how it has that rough edge? That may be the edge of the mudslide. Not sure, of course, but it looks like it."

"Yeah, I think you have something there," he agreed with a grin. "That'd be great. Heh. Race ya!"

Laughing the two teens picked up the pace, anxious to find help for the others. Speed however led to being less cautious and the inevitable happened.

"Arghhh" Sean cried out as his foot came down on a rock that rolled under the pressure, twisting his ankle. The young man tried to stay upright but pain and the awkwardly long step he'd taken worked against him and he sprawled in the mud, struggling to keep the viscous stuff out of his mouth and nose. Joe hurried over and grabbed a flaying arm, struggling to pull his sodden friend from the mud's tenacious grip. He nearly fell himself, but finally got a good enough stance to support his friend's efforts to get to his feet.

"Oh, crap, that's nasty!" Sean griped, spitting out mud and trying ineffectively to wipe it from his face. He was standing on only one foot, the other pulled up out of the goop. Only Joe's grip kept him upright.

"How bad is it?" the fair haired teen asked anxiously, looking ahead and not seeing the end to the mud within sight. Granted, there was a turn in the road not far ahead, and he hoped they'd find clearer going at that point.

"I can't even put it down," Sean moaned, feeling both chilled and sweaty with the shock of the injury. "You're going to have to leave me here," he said.

"Not happening, man. We go together. You'll have to use me as a crutch, but you will come with me," Joe insisted, a stubborn determination making him look far older than his years. "You wouldn't leave me, would you?"

Sean had no answer for that, just looked at his friend glumly. Joe positioned himself at Sean's side, then coached his friend to put all his weight on his back as he leaned over, then to hop a step. Sean did as instructed, then Joe moved forward and they repeated the process. It was much slower, but they were moving again.

NCISNCIS

"What do you think, Dr. Mallard?" Jimmy asked as the two men stood at the front of the bus and surveyed their patients. They'd removed the driver's body earlier, and had carefully stored their supplies in that area.

"What worries me, Mr. Palmer, is not what we know, but what we don't know," Ducky commented with a frown.

"I'm not following you," his assistant replied slowly.

"The injuries we've treated so far are for the most part not too severe. Yes, we have a couple who I am very concerned about, but my real fear is if any of them had internal bleeding, or even if our head injuries had small brain bleeds brewing, that sort of thing."

Horror dawned on Jimmy's face as he looked around again. "I didn't think of that. That's why you're telling everyone to stay still, isn't it?"

"Well, that and the fact there's nowhere for them to go," he added reasonably. "There's barely room for us to move about."

"So, what do we do?"

"What we've been doing. Treating the injuries we know about. With that in mind, we need to fix that woman's dislocated shoulder, the longer we wait the worse it will be and the more likely she will have permanent damage,"

"Have you ever done that?" the younger man wondered.

"Actually, yes, when I was serving as a medic in the military. I expect it to be a two man job this time, we don't have any muscle relaxers, and I'm frankly not quite as young as I used to be. Although, brute force is not what is required, but finesse. We need to get the humeral head to its normal place in the glenoid fossaI. If we get lucky it will go back in quickly. If not we will have made an enemy of what seems to be a nice enough woman. Let's go see if she's willing," he said, carefully moving over to where the injured passenger was seated.

"How are you feeling, my dear?" Ducky asked solicitously.

"If I don't move or breathe its miserable. Moving or breathing changes it to agonizing," she said with a grim smile. "But, it could be much worse. And I appreciated the ibuprophen you gave me," she added. Ducky noticed how misshapen her hands were from what he assumed was a fairly advanced case of arthritis. He figured she was unfortunately familiar with pain.

"Well, we might be able to make it much less painful, however, to do so will temporarily increase the pain level," Dr. Mallard explained.

"You want to 'pop' it back in, don't you?"

"You've had a dislocated shoulder before?"

"Oh, God, no. But I've seen the Lethal Weapon movies," she said with a twinkle in her eye despite the pain she was experiencing.

Ducky was at a loss to understand and turned to Jimmy, who was quietly chuckling at her comment. Seeing his boss's confusion, he hastened to explain.

"Mel Gibson's character could purposely dislocate his shoulder, then would repair it by slamming it into a solid object. It was a recurring joke throughout the, um, second movie, I think it was. Kinda gross, actually."

"I should think so," the elder man commented with a frown. "Well, we won't be slamming it into a hard surface, but we will try and maneuver it back into its proper place. It may slip right back it, or it may defy us completely. There's no way to tell until we try. It would help if we had muscle relaxers, but unfortunately, we don't have any with us."

"Darn, if we had access to the luggage, I've got a couple of bottles of Merlot that could do the trick," she offered.

Ducky chuckled, impressed with the woman's attitude. "So, you are willing to give it a try?" he asked. "We can't, we won't, force you, but the longer we wait the more likely permanent damage becomes."

"Well, it doesn't sound like much fun, but I really don't need any more permanent damage, so I say let's do it. My name is Gail, by the way. If you are planning to torture me, at least you should know my name." She offered her left hand to shake, given the right one was in the sling.

Ducky took the hand gently and replied. "Dr. Donald Mallard, at you service. My friends call me Ducky."

"Your parents named you Donald Mallard? They should be shot," she grinned.

"My father never got the joke, my mother never tired of it," he replied, smiling at the memory. He reached out gentle hands, removing the brace and carefully probing the shoulder to determine the best way to proceed. Jimmy crouched down at his side.

"Oh, probably shouldn't have teased the guy getting ready to unbreak my shoulder, should I?"

Ducky smiled, thinking how like Anthony her humor was: a defense against fear and pain. He quickly outlined to Jimmy the plan, and the younger man positioned himself to both provide stability to Gail while Ducky manipulated her arm, and to help guide the humeral head back into position. Luck was with them this time, a quick hard pull and twist and the deed was done.

"FUCK!" Gail screamed as the joint slipped back into place, startling both the men.

"Wow, that was quick at least," Jimmy said, letting go of the woman carefully.

"Oh, sorry, that just slipped out, but damn that hurt," she groaned, cradling her right arm with her left.

"No worries, my dear. All appears to be back in place. We'll put the brace back on, but once the initial discomfort passes you should find you have less pain," Ducky assured her, working with Jimmy to put the brace back on.

"It already feels tons better, thank you," she said sincerely. "You guys are lifesavers."

To be continued


	3. Chapter 3

Author's note: I apologize for the lengthy delay, real life, in the form of tax season, but me in the assets...

Part III

"Ducky just blipped!" McGee announced unexpectedly in the long silent car.

"Ducky 'blipped'?" DiNozzo countered, turning in his seat to give his partner a puzzled look.

"Yeah, yeah. His cell phone just showed up for a moment on the grid," the agent explained as his fingers flew over the keyboard.

"What exactly does that mean, McGee?" Gibbs queried, fixing his subordinate with a glare via the rear view mirror.

"There can sometimes be weird pockets of connectivity, and he must have entered one," McGee explained with a frown. "Just for a couple of seconds. But…well…it seems he's no longer with Palmer," he added. "Or at least his cell phone is no longer with Palmer's cell phone," he amended.

"No way would Ducky ever abandon Palmer," Tony noted with a bit of heat. "That'd be like Batman abandoning Robin. Won't happen."

"I know that, but the fact is that his cell's location is about a mile or two away from Palmer's, according to my calculation."

"You sure about that, McGee?" Gibbs asked.

"Yeah, no way to mistake that. Can't be too precise on the distance, but their phones are definitely no longer together."

"Damnit Duck, what did you get yourself into this time?" the team leader muttered as he added pressure to the accelerator, anxious to find his old friend.

NCISNCIS

Ducky was finishing up yet another round of checking his patients. Hailey, the teenager with a compound fracture was in a lot of pain, but her vital signs were strong, and her mother was working hard to distract her daughter. Theresa, the three year old with the arm injury was a bit worse, the wound till seeping blood at a worrisome rate. Damien, the young man with the spinal injury was stable, while Joseph, the head injury at the back was critical. And Monique, the pregnant young woman was undetermined. She refused to give honest answers. Her attitude and behavior indicated imminent labor, but she verbally denied it to both Ducky and Jimmy as they checked everyone over.

"She is still saying she is fine," Jimmy reported with a concerned glance back at the pregnant woman sitting alone amongst the chaos of the overturned bus. "She flinches a lot, and refuses any offers of food,' he added worriedly.

"Yes, I suspect she is in the early stages of labor," Ducky agreed with a frown. "But I get the impression she expects she is alone in this endeavor and cannot rely on anyone for support as her time draws near," Dr. Mallard concluded.

"What can we do?" Jimmy queried, genuine concern evident in his blue eyes.

"Try to convince her otherwise," Ducky recommended in a distracted manner. "All of our patients here need to feel their needs are foremost in the rescuers' agenda."

"Understood," Jimmy replied, moving to where the young mother cuddled her injured her daughter. "I want to double check her status, make sure she's as good as we think she is," the young ME replied, a concerned frown marring his smooth forehead as he spoke. "It just doesn't feel right to me."

"I concur, Mr. Palmer. Those who are being especially stoic under the circumstances are one ones to keep a close eye on," the elder agreed, looking over their rag tag group of survivors.

The bus was crowded, and flat out filthy, mud having been tracked and everywhere during the first attempts to help the injured. Two broken windows had allowed additional debris in, and attempts to create a more 'clean' atmosphere using the plastic sheets from the ME van had been only marginally successful. Those who had minor, or no, injuries were sitting in tight clusters, to allow for room for the more injured. One group, seven ranging in age from their early 20's to late 70's had found a couple of decks of cards and were actually having a spirited poker tournament. Ducky smiled to himself, amazed as always by the endless human capacity to cope with the problems life often saw fit to throw one's way. Another group consisted of two families, who clustered around one of the mothers, who was consoling the young children by reading from a few magazines she'd found. The topics were perhaps not typical for children the ages these were, but it kept them entertained and occupied.

"Dr. Mallard," Jimmy said softly, crouching down by his mentor and keeping his voice as soft as possible. "I think we may need to stitch up her arm. The bandage is saturated and she feels cooler than normal to me."

Ducky sighed deeply. He'd been desperate to avoid having to attempt suturing the child's injury; her lack of ability to communicate plus the lack of any sort of sterile environment made it far riskier than the ME liked. "Gather the suturing supplies, and as much antiseptic as you can, I'll see if I can make her mom understand."

Approaching the young mother, Ducky tried to explain as simply as possible what they needed to do. The woman's eyes clearly reflected her lack of understanding, and when Ducky attempted to remove the child from her arms she shouted at him in Spanish.

"Oh, Dear, please, understand; we don't want to hurt her, but she's not getting better," the doctor tried to explain. He became aware of another figure looming over him.

"Perhaps I can help?" It was the elder gentleman in the good suit. "I'm fluent in Spanish," he added.

"If you could make her understand that it's imperative we stop her daughter's bleeding, that would be most helpful."

"You want to try suturing her under these conditions?" he asked with raised eyebrows.

"We've been trying to avoid it, but the bleeding refuses to stop," Ducky informed him, watching as Jimmy approached with the materials discreetly covered on a tray.

"I'll do what I can."

Dr. Mallard and Jimmy watched the woman's expression and the elder gentleman explained what was needed. Her first response was a vehement shake of her head, but he kept on talking, and slowly her attitude changed, until at last she nodded to Ducky, handing over her child and latching on to the old man's arm with desperate strength.

"Quickly, lad, let's get this over with," he said to Jimmy as they moved with the child to the front of the bus. It was his first chance to really get a good look at the injury, and mentally he cursed himself for not doing so sooner. As soon as the sodden bandage was off and he had started to prod around the injury the child became verbal, screaming and crying. Jimmy was trying to both soothe the youngster as well as hold her arm steady, when the mother approached. But rather than attempt to remove her daughter, she instead worked on consoling the child, allowing Palmer to concentrate on assisting Ducky. Thankfully it was over quickly, and a new bandage, weirdly bright and white in the muddy bus, was in place.

'Please tell her to continue to keep her warm in the jacket, but I think it all went well and she should be fine," Ducky asked the other passenger. "And thank you for your help. Her survival will be largely thanks to your help. I'm curious, how did you convince her to let us treat he daughter."

"I'm a retired attorney. Let's just say I know how to make a good argument."

NCISNCIS

Joe paused a moment, catching his breath and straightening his back with a groan. He and Sean had continued on as well as they could, Joe alternating between moving forward himself and providing a prop so the injured Sean could also move forward. It was a slow, and painful, process, and both teens had been so completely caught up in it they hadn't realized they'd finally reached the turn in the road.

"Well, maybe this is good news," Joe said with a reassuring smile at his friend. "Could be rescue right around the corner."

Laughing at the notion, both boys were beyond startled when two men came around the bend, looking as surprised as they were.

"Whoa, man. Too weird," Sean muttered, resisting the urge to rub his eyes. The newcomers were wearing what appeared to be a form of snowshoe, allowing them to somehow say above the mud.

"Hello," the taller man said, moving toward the two teenagers. "Are you okay?"

"Sean's got an injured leg. We were on a tour bus, it got caught up in the mudslide. There are twenty some odd people on board. Oh, and the doctor and his assistant who were in something else that got hit too. We are trying to make sure rescue gets there really fast. Some people are hurt pretty bad," Joe told him in a tumble of words, grabbing on to the man's arm when he got close enough. He was reassured when he felt the reality of the person. "We promised to send help."

The second man turned away, pulling out what appeared to be a walkie talkie and barking orders into it. He then turned his attention to his companion and the two teenagers.

"The mudslide tapers off in less than a mile, we have heavy equipment already assembling in that area. How far back is the bus?"

Joe and Sean shared a puzzled look, and as usual it was Joe who replied. "I think just over a mile. We marked the spot on the road with a pink shirt. The bus is actually a ways off the road. Not too far, but a bit."

"Well it appears the entire slide area is almost four miles, so you were smart to come the way you did. Let's get you boys to safety. Ned and I can carry you son, if your friend here can do okay walking out?" he asked Sean.

"I'm good to walk, no problem," Joe assured them, smiling at Sean reassuringly.

"I've already ordered ambulances to be standing by, and they are firing up the bull dozer and loaders as we speak. You boys did good," he added as he and his partner created an 'arm chair' to carry the injured Sean out.

NCISNCISNCIS

Ducky bit back a sigh of frustration. Afternoon was waning, and it was becoming clear that night would likely come before rescue. Having checked the patients over yet again, he found himself sitting near Gail as he tried to salvage some more warm clothing from a backpack he'd located.

"You doing okay, Doc?" the middle aged woman asked quietly.

"I'm fine my dear," he replied with his soft smile. "How are you feeling?"

"Much better, thank you."

He noticed a spark of humor in her blue eyes, and couldn't resist asking. "What are you thinking about that amuses you so?"

She smiled a bit, but seemed reluctant to speak until Ducky leaned in and assured her. "It can be our secret."

"I was thinking about my youth. And one of my favorite movies in my teenage years. Airport '77, of all things. You familiar with that movie?"

"Can't say as I am," Ducky replied.

"Well, it was the third of the Airport movies, all disaster movies, and each one worse than the previous one. But '77 was still my favorite for some reason. This rich guy owns a luxury jet, has all his friends, family and business associates on it, flying them and a bunch of priceless art stuff to some remote island. But the bad guys plan to hijack it, take over the cockpit and take the plane so low radar can't track it. They figure to land it, steal the art, and be done. But they hit an oil rig and the plane goes down, sinking. Folks all over the plane injured, dying, dead, all the usual disaster movie concepts. One doctor on board, going nuts trying to treat everyone. One fella, only mildly injured, thanks him and says something like 'you must be the best doctor in California.' To which the doc replies, 'Well, perhaps the best veterinarian.' Seems his job was taking care of the rich guy's race horses."

Ducky laughed appreciatively as Gail smiled at him.

"So give it up, Dr. Mallard. Something tells me you are neither a surgeon nor a GP. Exactly what kind of doctor are you, Doctor?" she prodded with a playful grin.

Ducky leaned in closer and winked at her. "As it happens, you are most correct. I'm a Medical Examiner for NCIS. And Mr. Palmer is indeed my assistant," he said very quietly.

"I will consider that privileged information and not share it until we are all safely out of here. I thank you for confiding in me. However, just be warned, it only serves to make you more heroic in my mind," she teased him with a wink of her own. "I may have to start stalking you or something."

"My dear, the true heroes are those two young lads who volunteered to walk out of here," he countered, looking toward the front of the bus as if he expected them to come back in any moment.

"They will be fine. I just know it," she reassured him, lying a warm hand on his forearm.

Before Ducky could reply Jimmy arrived with words that only added to his worry.

"Her water just broke."

NCISNCIS

Joe waited until he'd seen Sean being taken into the ambulance and off toward the hospital before he darted up the steps of the lodge, which appeared to be being used as a staging area for the rescue. He'd refused the offer to ride to the hospital, wanting instead to be there when the others were gotten out. Now he sought out the owners of the lodge, Dr. Mallard's cell phone in hand. He'd already found he didn't have connectivity, but he figured a place like this had land lines.

"Hi, can I please use your phone?" he asked the middle aged couple who were talking to the local sheriff.

"Of course, you want to call your parents?" he woman asked.

"No. Well…yes, actually, yeah, but first I promised the doctor I'd call the number one person on his cell phone. He seemed to think it was very important. Then I need to call my folks, and Sean's as well," he added. "I can pay you for the calls," he noted.

"Nonsense, young man. Forget that. Make your calls right here, we'll leave you your privacy," she added, ushering the others out of the room.

Picking up the handset he hastily punched in the number from Ducky's phone, startled when a voice barked one word at him.

"Gibbs!"

"Um…uh….do you know a Dr. Duck?" he finally managed to ask, the events of the day suddenly coming to a head for him.

"Who is this?" the voice demanded, albeit more gently than before.

"Um, I was on the bus, and we walked out but Sean got hurt, and I'd promised the Doctor I'd call this number, so you know him?"

In the sedan now less than an hour from the lodge the three agents shared a confused look at the youthful, uncertain voice from Gibb's cell phone.

"Dr. Mallard?" Gibbs prompted, biting back his impatience.

"Yeah, yeah, that was his name, not Duck. Sorry. And Jimmy, I think the other guy's name was. They are taking care of the passengers on the bus. So you do know him?"

"Yes. Are they okay?"

"Yeah, sure. Some of the other passengers are not so good, but the doctor and Jimmy seemed fine. And now the rescue people are going to get to them, or so they say, and Sean's on his way to the hospital," the young man rambled.

Gibbs considered what he'd been told carefully. The voice was young, and for the most part uncertain. His gut told him he was dealing with a victim, not a perp, and allowances must be made for the emotional toll already taken.

"So, let me see if I have this straight: Dr. Mallard and Mr. Palmer – Jimmy – are uninjured and helping victims of a bus crash in a mudslide?" he asked at last.

"Yes, Sir." Gibbs's no nonsense approach was helping the teenager regain control.

"Where are you calling from, Son?" he asked.

"Um…it's called the Mountain View Lodge. Right on the highway. The mudslide starts about two miles from here."

Gibbs glanced in the rearview mirror, eliciting a reply from McGee to the question he didn't even have to ask. "About 50 minutes from here."

"We'll see you there in less than an hour. I appreciate you calling me. What's your name, by the way?"

"I'm Joe. And I guess I'll see you here, Mr. Gibbs," he said, feeling a strange comfort in talking to the no-nonsense man. "I'm not leaving until everyone is out."

TBC


End file.
